The next few weeks were nothing short of relentless. Elara's days blurred into a series of grueling training sessions, with Lucian watching her every move, criticizing every mistake, pushing her further each time she faltered.
Each morning, she would rise before dawn, her mind and body heavy with fatigue but her determination was unwavering. She walked into a secluded place in the forest, a place veiled in perpetual shadow where she could train in isolation.
The dense canopy of trees cast thick shadows around her, a perfect setting to sharpen her control over the darkness.
Her first challenge was Shadow Manipulation, a skill that had proven frustratingly elusive. The shadows would slip from her grasp, shifting and dispersing whenever she tried to shape them. Her early attempts often left her exhausted, her mind frayed and her patience worn thin.
One particularly frustrating day, she felt her anger flare, the shadows slipping through her fingers like water. She clenched her fists, exhaling a sharp breath.
Calm down, she told herself, trying to focus her mind. She remembered Lucian's words about becoming one with the shadows, not forcing them to obey.
Instead of fighting the shadows, she allowed herself to sink into them, feeling each tendril like an extension of her own being. Gradually, she found herself coaxing them, shaping them into wisps that danced around her fingers. She practiced this control over and over, until she could summon a solid veil of darkness at will, concealing her form in a cloak of shadows.
Her hard-earned progress didn't go unnoticed. Lucian, who had been observing from a distance, gave her a rare nod of approval. "Not bad for a beginner," he remarked, his tone laced with a hint of pride. Elara felt a surge of satisfaction at his praise, the grueling hours of training finally paying off.
---
Two weeks after she mastered the Shadow Manipulation Technique, the Mind Manipulation Technique proved to be an even greater challenge. The intangible nature of thoughts made them slippery, difficult to seize and shape.
Her initial attempts were frustrating failures—half-formed thoughts and jumbled images that achieved nothing but confusing her targets.
On her first trial, she had approached a wandering villager, her heart pounding as she attempted to plant a suggestion. Concentrating deeply, she imagined a thought slipping into his mind, a subtle whisper urging him to retrace his steps.
She watched, breathless, as the villager paused, muttering something incoherent, before turning back the way he had come.
The sense of triumph was exhilarating. She practiced this over and over, with strangers, animals, even birds flying through the forest. With Lucian's guidance, she learned to weave thoughts like delicate threads, slipping them into her target's mind with gentle persistence.
Not every day was a victory, however. There were moments when her strength waned, her control faltered, and her frustration boiled over. She stumbled back to her cottage on more than one occasion, muttering curses under her breath, her limbs heavy from exhaustion.
One evening, her voice barely above a whisper, she confessed her doubts to Lucian. "I don't know if I can do this," she admitted, her tone raw. "I keep failing. I feel like… I'm not strong enough."
Lucian's gaze softened, only slightly. "Failure is part of the process," he replied, his voice gentler than usual.
"True strength isn't born from success alone. It's born from the resilience to stand up after every fall."
His words lingered with her, inspiring a renewed resolve. She refocused her efforts, setting smaller goals and celebrating each minor victory. With every failure, she picked herself up, determined to prove herself worthy of Lucian's teachings.
—
As weeks passed, Lucian's demeanor shifted. Though he remained strict, his approval became more evident with each success she achieved.
Occasionally, a flicker of satisfaction appeared in his eyes when she performed well, a glimmer of pride that he never expressed openly.
On one evening, Lucian approached her. "Little one," he said, his tone almost affectionate. "I've never taught anyone before, and I am really surprised with your…..persistence. You've done well. Better than I expected."
She couldn't help but smile, feeling a surge of pride. "Coming from you, that's practically a compliment."
He scoffed, though the ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. "Don't let it go to your head."
After a month of strict training, Elara's mastery over Shadow Manipulation and Mind Manipulation had transformed her entirely. She had honed her abilities to the point where controlling shadows and slipping thoughts into others' minds felt as natural as breathing.
Lucian looked at her with unmistakable pride, though he still masked it with his characteristic aloofness. "You've proven yourself, little one. I suppose you're ready for more."
His smirk returned, tinged with arrogance. "Of course, it's only because you had an exceptional mentor."
She rolled her eyes, though a laugh escaped her. "I'm sure it had nothing to do with my hard work."
He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Naturally."
Despite the grueling weeks of training, Elara felt ready for whatever came next. The Divine Order had yet to see her full potential—but they would, soon enough.